The Magical Mind of Mistress Brusierce
by AuntySnix26
Summary: Her eyes are cold – icy blue – and her hair is warm yet sharp. The voice that falls from her perfect pink lips resembles the sound of a harp. The back of her hand is covered in ink and yet her words are short and scarce. Look to the floor and drop to your knees for Mistress Brusierce. Mistress!Brittany and Slave!Santana
1. Chapter 1

**The Magical Mind of Mistress Brusierce**

 ** _Summary:_**

 _Her eyes are cold – icy blue – and her hair is warm yet sharp. The voice that falls from her perfect pink lips resembles the sound of a harp. The back of her hand is covered in ink and yet her words are short and scarce. Look to the floor and drop to your knees for Mistress Brusierce._

 _ **Mistress!Brittany and Slave!Santana**_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

There were three rows of them – the slaves – all lined up on the stage like school children, their clothes second hand and their feet bare. All twenty-one pairs of eyes were cast downward at the floor as twenty-one pairs of ears waited for the auction to begin. Twenty-one living bodies; all clean and untouched with one exception. Dark, raven hair curtained the exception's face as her head bowed. Her shirt was torn – filthy – and her arms were covered in bruises and whip marks.

"Hand me the flyer." Brittany mumbled to the woman next to her who turned her head to face her and handed her a folded sheet of paper from between her index and middle fingers, "Thank you."

Brittany delicately unfolded the flyer and looked over it, her perfectly manicured nails brushing the page lightly as her fingers straightened it. Her brow furrowed at the words printed across it and she let her pink tongue brush across her lower lip.

 **Slave Auction**

 _All new and unused slaves up for bidding Saturday the twenty-seventh at four PM._

 _Bid now for a clean, smooth, willing slave and you won't regret it._

"All new, huh? What nonsense." Brittany muttered and handed the flyer back to the woman next to her – Josephine Redditch.

"They _are_ all new." Josephine told her and she shook her head before subtly pointing toward the battered girl in the third row, "Minus one. Pity."

"No one's going to bid on her." Brittany said, crossing one leg over the other, "Poor girl. She'll have to go back to the St. James house and live with Jesse. I almost feel bad for her."

"I don't." Josephine said firmly, "She'll get what she deserves just like the rest of them."

"Hmm," Brittany hummed, ignoring the comment as she watched Jesse St. James, auctioneer and slave dealer, walk onto the stage and position himself in front of the microphone. He cleared his throat and smiled slyly.

She wasn't even planning on showing up at the auction today; Josephine convinced her it'd be a good laugh. However, Brittany never found anything resembling slavery amusing. She'd owned her first slave at eighteen – a personal slave – who attended to her every need, mainly sexual. And, in nine years, she'd owned three more slaves, all of whom lived in her home. She'd owned four slaves in her legal lifetime and, yet, was the most powerful, most wealthy, most professional and most feared slave owner of all – she was the famous Mistress Brusierce – and there was no slave owner, slave dealer or slave that ever mistreated her.

"…so, get your money ready folks. First up, we have Johnathan Thompson. Age twenty-four. We'll start the bidding off at ten dollars." Jesse began as the first slave, an attractive young man, stepped forward. And so the auction began. Slave owners from near and far raised their paddles to bid on the slave and Brittany watched, lips pursed and face neutral as her arms crossed over her chest and rested below her breasts, "Sold for one hundred and thirteen dollars to Master Smythe."

Johnathan stepped off the stage and stood to the side as a woman off stage placed a sticker on his chest with the words _Master Sebastian Smythe – One hundred and thirteen dollars_ written on it. He kept his eyes downcast as the auction continued. Slowly, the rows began to disappear as the slaves were all bought one by one. Now, there were only five slaves left on the stage as the rest all stood off stage with stickers on their chests holding the name of their owner.

"Next, we have Santana Lopez. Age twenty-three." Jesse stated and a few protests were heard at the sight of the beaten girl.

"She's not new! She's been beat!" Master Tronson called from the back row of seats. Brittany's neck craned toward him and she caught his eye, watching as he gulped and sat back, "My apologies. Continue."

"She's a feisty one." Jesse told the crowd and Santana kept her head bowed, "We'll start the bidding off at five dollars."

"Five dollars." A man from the second row said, raising his paddle and Jesse nodded.

"I hear five dollars, do I hear ten? Ten dollars."

"Ten dollars." Another man called and Brittany recognized him as Artie Abrams – the cruelest slave owner she'd ever met although some would assume she was crueler than he.

"Ten dollars over here. Do I hear fifteen? Fifteen dollars." Jesse said and the first man who bid stuck up his paddle, "I see fifteen dollars, do I see twenty?"

"Thirty dollars." Artie called and Jesse was taken aback.

"The bidding's been raised to thirty dollars, do I hear thirty-five?"

"Forty dollars." The first bidder called and Artie sighed.

"Sixty." he called and Brittany's eyes snapped to the first bidder, Trevor Harrison, who shook his head.

"Sixty dollars going once," Jesse said and Brittany's eyes widened, "Sixty dollars going twice," this poor girl was going to go to Artie.

"One thousand dollars." Brittany called out in a panic and everybody's head snapped in her direction.

"One thousand dollars bid by Mistress Brusierce. Do I hear one thousand and five?"

"Not worth it." Artie muttered, shaking his head.

"One thousand going once. One thousand going twice. Sold! For one thousand dollars to Mistress Brusierce." Jesse announced and Brittany watched as Santana wrung her hands in fear as she stepped off the stage and had a sticker stuck to her chest. Jesse proceeded to auction off the other four slaves and Brittany licked her lips, eyes set on her new slave who's face she had yet to see.

The girl, Santana Lopez, was skin and bone; a skeleton of a woman.

"You shouldn't have done that." Josephine muttered as the last slave was sold, "She's trouble, that one. You've made a horrid mistake."

"We'll just see."

* * *

The auction was over. All twenty-one slaves had owners. Santana Lopez had an owner that wasn't Artie _The Ass_ Abrams. Brittany was still seated as all the owners paid for their slaves at the stage while Jesse took their money greedily. She watched as each slave was chained before they were led out of the auction by their new owner. She watched from her seat – the only one still seated – as Jesse's men chained her new slave around her wrists. She slowly rose from her seat, as the last owner paid, and made her way toward Jesse, purse slung over her forearm while she folded her hands and approached the curly haired, smug man.

"Mistress Brusierce, so nice of you to attend." He said with a sly grin on his lips as he tucked his money into the pocket of his vest.

"Don't flatter yourself, St. James, it's not attractive." Brittany said calmly and Jesse's smile slowly fell. He cleared his throat and nodded.

"That's one thousand dollars, Miss Pierce." He told her and Brittany reached a hand into her purse, pulling out her wallet and opening it. She plucked ten one hundred dollar bills from the cash in it and folded it, handing it to Jesse before putting her wallet back in her purse, "You're going to regret this. Your new slave is a bitch."

"And so are you, Mister St. James so, I guess one plus one makes two." Brittany shot back and her eyes pierced into his. He swallowed and looked down at his feet, "I'll be going now."

"Yes, ma'am." Jesse said, "Enjoy her."

"Hmm," Brittany repeated her neutral hum from earlier and walked slowly up to Santana who's head was still cast downward, her dark hair still a curtain across her face. Brittany stopped in front of the woman and reached forward, pulling the sticker off her chest and letting it rest on the tip of her index finger, handing it to the woman who placed it on her slave, "I'll need the key for these chains." She informed Jesse's men who nodded, "Now."

They scrambled to get the key off the small table behind them and handed it to Brittany who ran her tongue across her teeth and glared at them, contempt plastered to her expression.

"Eyes up," Brittany instructed Santana who's head raised slowly. Brittany's face remained neutral as her blue eyes danced across the woman's thin, beautiful face. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown and her lips were full and shapely, "Follow me."

Brittany spun on her heel and made her way toward the front door of the auction building with Santana following close behind, her chains clinging and clanging softly as she moved. Brittany moved slowly and gracefully down the front steps of the large building, her heels clicking as she did while bare feet made small splashes in the puddles on the stairs behind her. A pale, delicate hand reached into her large purse and pulled out her car keys. She clicked the unlock button and her black Nissan Juke unlocked. She pulled the passenger door open for Santana and turned toward her.

"Hands." She said simply, watching as Santana raised her chained hands. She cleared her throat and unlocked the chains, taking them off and throwing them into a nearby trash can, "Do you speak?" she asked earning a gulp and a nod.

"Yes, Mistress." Santana replied, licking her dry lips, "I'm sorry, Mistress."

"That's alright. Get in." Brittany told her and watched as she climbed carefully into the car, bowing her head and staring at her lap as Brittany closed the door. She made her way around the front of the car toward the driver's door and pulled it open, throwing in her purse and letting it rest on the center console as she climbed into the car. She lifted her purse and placed it at Santana's feet, "Seat belt."

"Yes, Mistress." Santana nodded, obeying her Mistress and putting on her seatbelt. Brittany swiftly pulled hers on and clicked it into place before starting the car and pulling out of the parking spot.

"How long have you been a slave?" Brittany asked, hitting her blinker and sighing as she stopped at the red light.

"Since I was four, Mistress." Santana replied.

"And where did you get those bruises?"

"Mister St. James, Mistress."

"What did you do to make him hit you?" Brittany asked, curious that this girl really might be trouble.

"I spoke without being spoken to, Mistress." Santana replied, fiddling with her dirty fingers

"I see." Brittany said, nodding slowly as she watched the traffic light, "What are you good at?"

"Housework, Mistress. Cooking and cleaning." Santana replied.

"Hmm, well, I already have three slaves at my house for that." Brittany said, turning left as the light went green, "How are you at yard work?"

"I worked in Mister St. James' garden, Mistress. He said it was satisfactory." Santana replied and Brittany nodded.

"Well, my yard needs some work and satisfactory is fine by me." She said, "You'll work in the yard."

"Yes, Mistress." Santana agreed before looking out the window. Brittany chanced a glance at Santana as she made a right turn. The girl's hair was long and messy and needed a wash – as a matter of fact, the _girl_ needed a wash; desperately. She needed a new set of clothes and she needed a haircut. There were a lot of things this girl needed and Brittany made a mental note to have it all done before Monday when Santana would start work.

* * *

Her house was rather large and, at the front gate, there were two lion statues roaring proudly with their marble chests puffed up. Mistress Brusierce was known to everyone as _The Lion of Lima_. There were gorgeous trees lining either side of the long driveway and the garden was beautifully large. Santana peered out of her window and felt her eyes widen at the sight of the garden. Brittany practically read the young woman's mind, "You'll attend to the yard in sections so it's not too much work. Blaine will help you with that." She told the girl as she parked in front of the living room windows and shut off the car, "There are no chains here. No unnecessary punishment. You will share a room with Mercedes and you will be awake at eight a.m every morning. Lights out at nine thirty p.m. Tomorrow we'll go over your contract after breakfast. Once we get inside, I'll show you to your bedroom and then we'll get you cleaned up for dinner. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you." Santana said with a firm nod and Brittany nodded as well, opening her car door and climbing out with Santana following.

"Follow me inside." Brittany said, walking up the paved front path toward the front door, turning the door knob and pushing the door open, "Come in."

Santana nodded and walked inside before Brittany followed and shut the door, "It's beautiful." Santana breathed and Brittany smiled as she removed her blazer and hung it on the coat rack as she removed her heels and moved them to the side with her bare foot, "I'm sorry, Mistress. I didn't mean to speak out of turn."

"That's alright." Brittany forgave the girl who swallowed her nerves and began to fiddle with her fingernails, "I'm home!" Brittany called into the house and footsteps were heard coming from two different parts of the house – upstairs and beyond the foyer. A big, beautiful black woman appeared at the top of the staircase while two men walked into the foyer – one with gelled back hair and the other with delicate hands and hair with volume.

"Welcome home, Mistress." The boy with the gelled hair greeted and Santana's first instinct was to look at her feet.

"Hello, Blaine. Kurt. Mercedes." Brittany greeted them and moved to the stairs, "This is Santana, she's going to be working in the yard. Mercedes, she'll be sharing a room with you. Blaine, draw her a bath in the guest bathroom, please and Kurt, get Santana a spare change of clothes from the linen cupboard. Santana, follow me."

"Yes, Mistress." Santana obeyed.

"Right away, Mistress." Blaine said.

"Yes, Mistress." Kurt said, moving across the foyer and disappearing behind a wall while Blaine followed Santana and Brittany upstairs with Mercedes behind him.

As soon as the four of them reached the top of the stairs, Blaine made a right turn towards the guest bathroom with Mercedes following him. Santana swallowed again and followed closely behind Brittany as the blonde moved up another flight of stairs onto the third floor, "This is your new bedroom." She informed the girl as she reached the top. Santana blinked furiously as she got into the room and her jaw fell open, "This is your bed." Brittany said, patting the bed on the far side of the room.

"Thank you, Mistress. Thank you so much." Santana said gratefully.

Brittany's lips pulled into a surprised smile, "You're very welcome, Santana." she said, "Now, this chest at the foot of your bed is where you'll keep your clothes once we've bought you some. We'll go shopping after you've finished work on Monday."

"Mistress, thank you." Santana said as tears welled up in her dark brown eyes, "I've never had a bed before."

"I want you to be comfortable. This is your home now." Brittany said, purse slung over her forearm, "Now, you'll take a bath and I'll have Mercedes wash your hair. Tomorrow Kurt will cut it for you. Is that alright?"

"Yes, of course, Mistress." Santana nodded her head frantically, still in shock that she was being given a bed and new clothes.

"Good. Come with me and we'll get you washed up." Brittany said, moving past Santana as a small, salty tear slid down a tan cheek. She walked back down the stairs and Santana followed eagerly behind her, "Mercedes, would you wash Santana's hair, please?"

"Of course, Mistress." Mercedes said with a nod, giving Santana a friendly smile as Kurt walked into the guest bathroom with a large t-shirt, sweat pants and fresh underwear for Santana.

"Thank you, Kurt. Just put them next to the tub. Blaine, make sure it's warm, please. It's going to rain tonight." Brittany instructed earning nods from her slaves, "Kurt, you may leave and start dinner."

Kurt nodded and left the bathroom, touching Santana's shoulder soothingly on his way out. Blaine finished the bath and Brittany felt the water, nodding at him and ordering him to leave.

"Santana, disrobe, please." Brittany instructed and Santana hesitantly began to undress, revealing her bruised and whipped body. Brittany's eyes ran over the whip marks and noticed they were fresh, barely a day old, "Mercedes, before you wash Santana's hair would you bring me the first aid kit?"

"Yes, Mistress. I'll be back in a minute." Mercedes said, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

"Sit on the edge of the tub." Brittany told the beaten girl who obeyed and moved slowly towards the bath tub, seating herself on the edge and placing her hands in her lap. Brittany opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a razor and shaving cream, "This'll be a bit cold." she informed the girl, shaking the shaving cream before lathering the girl's legs with it. She began to shave the tan limbs gently as Santana watched with interested eyes. She'd never been shaved before this – only waxed under her arms by Mister St. James which was excruciatingly painful and made her cry which she was later beaten for. Brittany fully shaved her legs before moving her hands away from her crotch and helping her stand, "When Mercedes gets back with the first aid kit, I'm going to disinfect these wounds. Tomorrow we'll give you a bikini wax. It'll hurt but, Kurt's very good so, it shouldn't hurt as much as it usually would. Is that alright?"

"Y-Yes, Mistress."

"You may say no, Santana. If you prefer we can shave your bikini area, Kurt's good at that as well."

"I'd prefer that, Mistress. Mister St. James waxed me under my arms and it was horrible. I'm sorry." Santana said and Brittany shook her head.

"Don't apologise. You being comfortable is very important to me. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do. Okay?"

Santana was surprised. She'd heard horrible rumors about Mistress Brusierce and this woman before her was not living up to them. It warmed her heart to discover that her new Mistress had a kind nature, "Okay, Mistress. Thank you." she said just as the bathroom door opened and Mercedes walked back in with a first aid kit in her hands.

"Here's the first aid kit." Mercedes said, handing the box to her Mistress and stepping back, folding her hands in front of her and looking at her feet.

"Thank you, Mercedes. Santana, turn around please. Mercedes, come hold her hand. This'll sting." Brittany said as she took out the disinfectant and licked her dry lips. Mercedes took hold of Santana's small, boney hand and felt the brunette squeeze it tight as Brittany disinfected all of her wounds. The fresh, open wounds stung the most and brought tears to her eyes, "The sting goes away." Brittany hushed as Santana whimpered, "I'm going to have Mercedes put a healing cream on all these cuts after your bath, alright?"

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress." Santana said, blinking away her tears. Brittany placed the disinfectant back in the first aid kit and took out the healing ointment, placing it on the sink and shutting the first aid kit.

"I'll leave you to bath." Brittany said, "Be gentle with her, Mercedes. She's come straight here from the St. James house. You know what she's been through."

"Of course, Mistress." Mercedes nodded and looked at the small girl with sympathy in her dark eyes as Brittany left the room, shutting the door behind her, "Climb in, sugar." she instructed softly and Santana lifted her foot, stepping into the bath and slowly lowering herself into the warm, welcoming water, "We'll wash your hair first. Tilt your head back, hon." Santana obeyed and tilted her head back while Mercedes got a small jug out from under the sink. She filled it with water and gently poured the water over Santana's hair, "I know how you feel, girl. I was sent to live with Mister St. James after my last owner put me back into the slavery system. It was awful. He beat me every time I said no to somethin'. Then there was the auction and Mistress Brusierce bought me."

"I've heard things about her." Santana stuttered out and Mercedes hummed in acknowledgment.

"I know what you've heard." She said, "I heard all those things too. I was terrified when she bought me. But I've been living here for seven years and she's never hit me or beat me once." Santana was shocked at that information; the Lion of Lima didn't beat her slaves? Somehow, she found that impossible, "Mistress doesn't hit. She punishes in a different way."

"What does she do?" Santana asked hesitantly, afraid to hear the answer as Mercedes massaged shampoo into her hair.

"She makes us work on Sundays or, if what we did was really bad, she takes something of ours away." Mercedes said, "She never hits. Mistress doesn't believe in violence; she doesn't like it. When she bought Blaine and Kurt, they were in as bad a shape as you. She takes in the weak and wounded slaves and gives them a home."

"Does she let you eat?" Santana questioned earning a shocked expression from Mercedes.

"Honey, of course. We don't eat with her – we're slaves so, the slaves eat together and Mistress eats by herself in her room – but, we eat three meals a day and she also doesn't believe in taking away a meal as a punishment. Mistress doesn't punish severely. If she does take away a meal as a punishment then, what you did was really bad and it's likely she'll be angry for a while. Mistress is a kind Mistress."

Santana inhaled a deep, relieved breath and exhaled on a shake. She was finally safe. She'd been a slave for nineteen years and she finally had an owner that would treat her as a person, "Thank you for washing my hair." She said and Mercedes smiled, "You're very kind."

"It's not a problem at all, sugar." She said, "You'll have a bath every night and you'll wash your hair every second night. Mistress likes her slaves to be clean and healthy. Sometimes Mistress has guests and she likes her slaves to be clean, fresh and well-dressed."

"Mistress is good." Santana stated as she felt tears well up in her eyes. This was her first bath since she was ten and she was able to have a lovely bath like this one every night. She would be able to have clean hair and a full belly when she went to sleep. And she'd sleep in a bed; she'd sleep in _her_ bed. Her very own bed, "Mistress told me I'm going to sign a contract tomorrow after breakfast. And Mistress told me that every morning we must wake up at eight and every night we must turn off our lights and nine-thirty." She nodded, proud that she'd remembered everything her Mistress had told her.

"Tomorrow's Sunday. Sunday is our day off." Mercedes told the girl, rinsing her hair gently, "We wake up at ten on Sunday."

"You have a day off?" Santana asked, absolutely gob-smacked at the information.

"Mistress says we work hard all week and deserve a break. Sunday is our reward for working hard." Mercedes informed her and she gulped down her tears.

"Mistress is very good." Santana said and sniffled, "Mistress is good and kind."

"She is. Don't listen to the rumors about her. They aren't true." Mercedes told her, "They just come from other slave owners who are jealous of Mistress' wealth. So, they say she is a cruel beast that beats her slaves to a pulp for no good reason because they don't like that she's respected."

"That's not a very nice thing to say about Mistress." Santana said as Mercedes placed the jug down on the side of the tub and picked up a washcloth, dipping it in the warm water before lathering it with soap.

"It's not a very nice thing to say at all. You're right."

Santana was shocked for the umpteenth time this day; she'd never been told she was right. Ever.

Mercedes began to softly wash her dirty skin, watching as the filth disappeared with each swipe of the washcloth across the girl's body, "Thank you." Santana said with a small smile, "Thank you for being so very kind to me."

"You're very welcome, little bird." Mercedes replied and smiled at the small hint of happiness and relief on the girl's face, "You can relax now. You're very safe here. Mistress takes care of her slaves."

Santana nodded and inhaled a deep, shaky breath as the woman continued to gently cleanse her body. As soon as she was done being washed, Mercedes helped her out of the bath and dried her with a big, fluffy towel before rubbing the healing cream onto her wounds and then proceeding to help her dress, "I've never had these before. What are they?" Santana asked, holding the pair of white, cotton panties in her small palms.

"Underwear." Mercedes told her sweetly before she blinked, nodded and stepped into the garments.

"They're comfortable." She said with a happy smile, "I like underwear."

Mercedes let out a chuckle, "Me too, girl." She said, "Come on, arms up, let's get you dressed. Santana obliged and stuck her arms in the air, letting Mercedes put the shirt on her. It was soft and large, hanging loosely over her shoulders, "Mistress has lots of spare clothes in her linen cupboard for her new slaves. That's why it's so big. She just gets the large sizes because she doesn't know what size her new slave will be."

"This is also comfortable. It's nicer than my other shirt," Santana said, looking in the direction of her old, raggedy, torn shirt laying on the floor next to the door, "Much nicer. And there are no holes in it."

"Yeah, aside from the arm and neck holes." Mercedes teased earning a small smile, knowing the girl understood. She lifted the pair of black sweatpants from the side of the tub and handed them to Santana, "Put these on."

"I get pants?" Santana asked, eyes wide as she looked at the garments being handed to her.

"Of course you get pants. It's almost winter so, it's very cold. Mistress doesn't want her slaves to get cold." Mercedes told the girl who nodded and slowly put on the pants. The hung loose on her hips and she watched as Mercedes pulled on the strings and tied them into a bow.

"It looks like bunny ears." Santana observed and Mercedes smiled.

"It does, huh?" She replied, "Okay, lastly, socks. Put these on your feet so they don't get cold." She said, handing two white socks to Santana who gratefully took them and sat on the edge of the tub, pulling the socks onto her already cold feet, smiling happily as their warmth embraced her toes.

"I must thank Mistress for clothes." She said, standing and holding her arms at her sides, "I must thank Mistress for my bath and for my underwear and my pants and my socks. I must thank Mistress for my new shirt. Mistress is very kind for giving me clothes."

Mercedes didn't say a word – she was once where Santana is, broken and confused by the new, kind treatment of her Mistress. She was shocked when she was dressed in warm clothes, fed a hot meal and placed in a warm bed on her first night with Mistress. And she's been forever grateful for Mistress. Watching as Santana's eyes welled with tears broke her heart and she pulled the girl into a soft hug, "There, there, sugar. You're safe now."

* * *

After the delicious dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, Brittany walked Santana to bed and very quietly told the girl not to worry about waking up on time in the morning, "You look like you haven't slept in years." She said earning a very grateful:

"Thank you, Mistress." From the tired, full, warm slave. Brittany smiled and gently brought the covers up and over the dozing girl, shutting off the bedside lamp and standing from the bed, "Goodnight, Mistress." She heard from the bed and looked down at the slave.

"Goodnight, Santana. Sleep well." She said, moving to the staircase as Mercedes sat down on her bed, "Don't bother waking her in the morning, Mercedes. Let the little bird sleep."

"Yes, Mistress. Goodnight." Mercedes replied.

"Goodnight. Sleep well."

"You as well, Mistress. Thank you." Mercedes said earning a soft smile before Brittany descended the staircase and made her way to her own bedroom. She turned off the hall lights and opened her bedroom door, walking slowly inside and shutting it behind her. With her arms above her head, she yawned as she walked toward her bed. Resting atop her pillow were her pajamas which she picked up and unfolded. After undressing, she redressed into her loose t-shirt and pajama pants before climbing into bed and shutting off her bedside light.

Brittany hadn't even planned on showing up at the auction today and, yet, she returned home with something she'd keep until the day she died. She just didn't know it yet.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hi, all! Please note that this is an AU story so, if there are any inaccuracies then they are intentional. The reason for this story stems from a bet with my best friend who bet me that I couldn't write a story that receives over one thousand reviews so, I'd be forever grateful if you could all help me prove her wrong. I don't like to beg but, I'm saying please – she always wins our bets and I'd really like to win this one…** ** _please._** **Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Magical Mind of Mistress Brusierce**

 **Chapter Two**

Her tiny, boney feet descended the staircase at exactly 12:03 in the afternoon. She'd never slept so well in all her twenty-three years and she couldn't even begin to explain how grateful she was for the extra sleep.

It was raining today, the loud pitter-patter of water hitting the windows making her aware of the weather as she began walking down the second staircase, stifling a yawn. She had no idea where she was going. She'd never been in a house so big and, unluckily, hadn't been given a tour. She assumed all the slaves would be spending their day off in the same room – possibly the basement or out in the yard – while Mistress watched TV or slept in. But, to her surprise, when she got downstairs and turned a corner into what appeared to be the dining room, she saw all three slaves seated at the table eating lunch while Mistress sat at the head of the table reading over many, many papers.

"Good morning, Mistress." She spoke earning four pairs of eyes landing on her. She watched as the three slaves smiled and Kurt gave her a small wave while Mistress stood and moved over to her, "I'm sorry for sleeping so long, Mistress."

"Relax. I wanted you to. You can't function properly if you haven't had a good night's sleep." Brittany said, placing her soft hand on Santana's upper arm, leading her to the table, "Are you hungry? You must be starving. Kurt, when you're done eating would you whip something up for Santana?"

"Absolutely." Kurt nodded with a smile. Brittany smiled back and pulled out a chair next to the head of the table for Santana to sit down.

"Sit. I'm just going over your contract." Brittany said, seating herself down again as Santana hesitantly sat down, wondering if it was some kind of trick that she'd be punished for, "Can you read, Santana?"

"Si," Santana said, "I mean, yes, Mistress. My papi taught me when I was very young."

Brittany smiled, "Would you read over this and tell me if there's anything you're uncomfortable with?" she asked, sliding the large stack of papers over to Santana who straightened her back and nodded, looking down at the first page and beginning to read.

Kurt raised from his chair and lifted his empty plate, "May I get you anything, Mistress? Something to eat and drink? You haven't eaten all day." He said.

"No, thank you, Kurt. I'll get something myself a little later. I'm alright for now." Brittany replied and Kurt nodded, turning on his heel and disappearing through a swinging door into the kitchen. Santana read and read and read, not fully understanding the language used in the contract however, fully agreeing to the terms she did understand and being surprised that she was given the opportunity to read the contract in the first place, "Is there anything you'd like to have changed?" Brittany asked as she watched Santana finish the last page.

"No, Mistress." Santana shook her head and Brittany smiled, taking the contract back and lifting her pen, clicking the end.

"I'm lucky I have many copies of this contract in my study." She said, signing on the line on one of the pages, lifting the page and signing on the next line, "Technically that's not allowed but, I like my slaves to all have the same contract so, it's not unfair. Wouldn't you agree, Santana?"

"Yes, Mistress. That's very kind of you." Santana replied earning a wide smile from Brittany who continued to sign on the lines before sliding the first signed page over to Santana and resting her pen atop it.

"Sign on the dotted line." She instructed earning a confused look from Santana, "Just write your initials."

"Okay." Santana nodded, picking up the pen and writing S.L on her line before Brittany placed another page in front of her. She repeated the initials until the entire contract was signed earning a happy smile from her mistress.

"Good." Brittany said with a nod as she gathered the pages and straightened them in a neat pile, "I'll have this filed tonight and you'll start work tomorrow."

"Yes, Mistress." Santana agreed as Kurt walked through the swinging door and placed a plate with a large sandwich in front of Santana along with a glass of water, "Thank you, Kurt." Santana said, overwhelmed by the size of her sandwich. Kurt gave her shoulder a squeeze and moved back to his seat. Santana hadn't even realized there was a book resting on the table in front of Kurt which he picked up and began to read. Her eyes widened and darted to her Mistress who was busying herself with placing the contract in a folded piece of card.

"Eat, Santana. You're all bone." Brittany spoke as she focused on the folded piece of card, scribbling something down on the front, "I want you to eat until you're full. It's very important that you have a full belly and meat on your bones. It's healthy and I want you to be healthy."

Santana felt her chin quiver and nodded, sniffing and lifting her sandwich, "Thank you, Mistress." She mumbled as she took a small bite of her sandwich and placed it back on the plate as she chewed.

Brittany chuckled, "You eat like a bird," she said with a smile, "You're my little bird."

"I'm not sure I understand, Mistress." Santana said after swallowing.

Brittany clicked the end of her pen again and placed it atop the contract, "Mercedes is my sassy slave. Kurt is my diva. Blaine is my bow-tied slave and _you_ are my little bird." She cleared up and Santana smiled softly. She'd never been claimed let alone been given a nickname other than _stupid bitch_ and _cunt_. She'd never been told she was anyone's anything. And now she was Brittany's little bird, "Now, finish your sandwich. I'm going to be in my study. Mercedes, would you give Santana a tour of the house so, she knows her way around?"

"Of course, Mistress." Mercedes nodded as Brittany stood from her chair and lifted the contract into her hands.

"Have a good day, you four. I'll see you tonight." Brittany said with a smile before disappearing from the dining room. Santana blinked hard every so often as she ate her sandwich in silence, wanting to make sure it was real.

"This sandwich is lovely, Kurt." She said and Kurt looked up from his book while Blaine and Mercedes stood and took their plates to the kitchen. Kurt smiled widely and put down his book.

"Thank you. My secret recipe is honey." He told her, "But, don't tell anyone. It's a secret."

Santana smiled, "I won't say a word." She said, "What book are you reading?"

"Game of Thrones." Kurt replied, "Mistress lets us read books from the library to better our vocabulary's."

"Mistress is a very lovely woman." Santana said earning a nod, "What is Game of Thrones about?"

"It's hard to explain. I've read it once before. Would you like to read it? I should read the second one anyhow." Kurt offered earning wide, happy eyes from the girl chewing on her sandwich and nodding frantically.

"If you don't mind. That would be lovely." She said earning a smile as Kurt closed the book and stood, moving to Brittany's previous seat and sitting down, placing the large book in front of Santana who's eyes lit up at the sight, "It's quite big. There are many pages."

"There are. But it's written very well. You may be a bit confused at first because there are so many characters but, you will enjoy it." Kurt told her with a smile, "If you'd like, I can show you around the house instead of Mercedes. She's not feeling all too well today, anyway."

"That's horrible." Santana said, "Is there anything I can do to help her?"

"No. She just needs rest." Kurt said, "I'll show you around when you've finished eating."

"Thank you." Santana said before taking another bite of her sandwich, chewing happily as she looked over the cover of the book she'd begin to read tonight, "What is Mistress' job? Her house is very big."

"Mistress is the CEO of a publishing house." Kurt told her earning a confused frown.

"What is a publishing house?"

"A publishing house makes books like this one – see on the spine, there's this little picture of a rooster and it says Bantam Books. That's the publishing house that published this book."

"Mistress is CEO of Bantam Books?" Santana asked, interested.

"No," Kurt chuckled, "Mistress is the CEO of a different publishing house called Piercing." He told the girl who nodded, "The CEO is the boss of everyone except for the owner. Mistress is very successful."

"Mistress is smart." Santana said before taking the very last bite of her sandwich and brushing off her hands, "I'm full."

"Good. Mistress would be very pleased that you finished your whole sandwich." Kurt said, lifting Santana's plate as the girl lifted her glass of water and chugged all of it down, "And your whole glass of water." Santana smiled with water coating her full lips and Kurt smiled back, lifting her glass and standing, "Follow me. I'll show you the kitchen first."

Santana nodded and stood, pushing in her chair and following Kurt through the swinging door to the kitchen. The kitchen was large with marble counters and a two door refrigerator. Santana was in awe of the room; she'd never seen a kitchen so big and beautiful.

"Hey, girl." Mercedes greeted her as she wiped down the counter.

"Hi, Mercedes." Santana replied with a smile, "Kurt said he would show me the house because you aren't feeling well. I hope you feel better."

"Thank you, hon." Mercedes said gratefully earning a smile from the girl as Blaine moved toward her and stuck out his hand.

"We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Blaine Anderson. I work in the yard on some days and other days I clean Mistress' room. It's lovely to meet you, Santana." He said and she smiled, shaking his hand and glancing at his bow-tie.

"I'm Santana Lopez. Mistress says I'm going to attend to the yard as well. She also said you'd help me because it's so big." She said and he smiled.

"Of course." He said, "Kurt's full name is Kurt Hummel and he's the household chef. He also cuts Mistress' hair and gives her waxes."

"Which reminds me; Mistress asked me this morning to cut your hair and shave your bikini area. I'll do that after your tour of the house." Kurt said, rinsing Santana's plate.

"I'm Mercedes Jones and I clean the house." Mercedes said, "And, on that note, I'm going to go and unmake my bed so I can sleep this headache away."

"Feel better, Mercedes Jones." Santana wished her earning a chuckle.

"Thanks, girl." Mercedes said, moving to the other door in the kitchen and pushing it open, walking out of the kitchen and disappearing from sight.

* * *

Kurt gave Santana a full tour of the house, ending the tour in the library. Santana's eyes were filled with wonderment as she looked over the shelves and shelves of books, wanting to read every single one. None of the books were dusty in the slightest due to Mercedes' upkeep in the library and Santana ran her index finger down the spines of the books she could reach.

"Mistress has a lot of books." She muttered, peering up at the second floor of the library where more books lined the walls, "Has she read them all?"

"I don't know. Mistress does like to read but, I'm not sure how many books she's read." Kurt replied, watching Santana touch the books she could reach with excited eyes, "You may read anything in here. Mistress likes us to read."

"These books are beautiful." Santana said.

"They are." Kurt agreed with a smile, "Come on, let's go cut your hair and give you a shave."

"Okay." Santana nodded, allowing Kurt to walk her out of the library, "May we come back to the library once we're finished?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

Kurt shaved Santana's bikini area first and she looked away as he did so, embarrassed. He shaved her with ease and, once he was done, helped her put her pants back on, tying the strings in a bow again. He then sat her down and draped a towel across her shoulders before taking out his haircutting kit and spraying her hair with a spray bottle to dampen it, making it easier to cut it.

"Okay. How short do you want it?" he asked and Santana licked her lips.

"Not too short, please. Keep it past my shoulders, if you can." She replied and Kurt smiled and nodded.

"Will do." He said and began to expertly cut her hair, letting the cut clumps fall to the floor around Santana's chair. Santana looked at herself in the bathroom mirror as he cut, thinning her hair slightly so that it fell in layers. She chewed on her lower lip as Kurt ruffled her hair with his fingers and looked at her in the mirror before picking up a hand-mirror and showing her the back, "Is that okay or should I take more off?"

"That looks lovely, Kurt. Thank you." Santana said with a smile as she looked at her layered, thinned and newly cut hair in the mirror. She reached a hand back and ran her fingers through it, "This was my first haircut."

"I figured." Kurt smiled, "Your hair was very long."

"You're very good at this stuff." Santana complimented, "Do you also do your own hair?"

"I do." Kurt said.

"I can tell. It's very funky." Santana smiled and he laughed, removing the towel from her shoulders and brushing the remaining hair off her back.

"Okay. Let's go show Mistress and see if she's happy with it."

Santana stood up and did a twirl as she watched her hair flip over her shoulder in the mirror. Kurt laughed happily as he watched the girl admire her hair, "Mistress will love it. It's beautiful." She said and turned on her heel, following Kurt out of the bathroom, "Wait. Shouldn't we clean the floor?"

"I'll do that after we've shown Mistress." Kurt assured the girl who nodded and continued to follow him down the stairs and toward Brittany's study.

Brittany's study was quite large and had a living room set in front of her desk. The walls were navy blue and the floor was oak with a large, fluffy teal rug underneath the couch and armchair.

Kurt knocked on the door and waited for Brittany to give him entrance, "Come in." The blonde called from inside and Kurt opened the door with Santana close behind him.

"We've come to show you Santana's hair, Mistress." Kurt said and Santana watched over his shoulder as Brittany smiled a real, genuine smile at the information.

"Go ahead." She instructed and Kurt moved out of the way so Santana would come into Brittany's view. Santana watched as her Mistress' eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly open. She was nervous that her Mistress thought her hair looked awful and bowed her head in shame, "Wow," Brittany breathed softly, "I can see your face." She said and Santana looked up with a confused frown, "You're very beautiful, Santana. Well done, Kurt. It looks lovely."

"Thank you, Mistress. I'm glad you like it." Kurt said and Santana gave her Mistress a big, happy smile.

"I love it." Brittany corrected the boy and Santana smiled even wider, "I love it very much."

* * *

The next day Santana was up at eight sharp and ready to work in the yard with Blaine. He gave her all the tools she'd need and she pulled on the gardening gloves with determination in her expression before dropping to her knees next to Blaine and beginning to help him remove the weeds from the first flowerbed of many. Brittany had left for work after breakfast that morning and would only return home at six that night. She'd told Santana that the girl should be bathed and ready by six thirty to go shopping for new clothes to which Santana nodded eagerly and finished her breakfast.

Santana worked hard in the yard all day, yanking weeds from the flowerbeds and watering the grass and flowers with the hose. She worked through lunch and by the time six o'clock came around and Brittany locked her car, Santana was packing away all the gardening tools she'd used that day, still standing in the yard. Brittany stopped on the paved path and watched the girl – her hair was in a messy, raven colored bun atop her head and her pants were covered in grass stains and dirt as she cleaned off the small, handheld rake with her gardening glove covered fingers. A small, fond smile found its way onto Brittany's face as she admired her new slave who still hadn't realized she was home. She felt connected to the girl for some unknown and strange reason and was starting to form small feelings for the woman. However, Santana was not her personal slave and had not agreed to perform personal favors therefore, she had to push her budding feelings away and treat Santana how she treated the rest of her slaves.

"Santana," she called softly and watched as Santana's head snapped in her direction quickly and startled, "I don't mean to frighten you. Come inside and take a bath and then we can go."

"Yes, Mistress. Welcome home. How was your day?" Santana asked, pulling off the gardening gloves and tucking them away in the tool box along with the rest of the gardening tools.

"It was long and tiring, Santana, thank you for asking. How was your day?" Brittany asked as Santana heaved up the tool box and moved toward her.

"It was very fun, Mistress. Today Blaine and I removed the weeds from the flowerbeds and then we watered the grass and the flowers." She replied with a tired smile and Brittany smiled back, pushing open the front door and walking inside with her slave following.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your day, Santana." She told the girl, "What did you eat today?"

"I only had breakfast, Mistress. I was having too much fun in the garden and forgot about lunch. I'm sorry." Santana replied as she tucked the tool box away in a small cupboard in the foyer.

"Not to worry. We're having a big dinner tonight. Monday is mac 'n cheese night." Brittany said, plonking her purse down at the door and shrugging off her blazer, hanging it on the coat rack, "Now, go bath and get dressed into different clothes. I'll have Kurt bring some up to the bathroom."

"Alright, Mistress. Thank you." Santana said, beginning to climb the staircase, holding onto the railing like a small child would. Brittany watched her go and smiled to herself as the brunette stumbled slightly, letting out a quiet chuckle as she made her way to her study. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor as she moved to the large study door, pushing it open and walking inside, sighing as she sat at her desk and shut her eyes. The loud ring of her landline pulled her from her short doze and she lifted the handheld device, answering it.

"Hello, Brittany speaking."

" _Brittany,"_ the woman sighed and Brittany inhaled a deep breath, _"I've been calling constantly. Why haven't you been answering?"_

"I just got home from work and I don't allow my slaves to be in my study when I'm not here, Quinn." Brittany told the woman as she hit a small button on her desk, "What's up?"

" _I'm coming over for dinner this Friday."_ Quinn said and Brittany cleared her throat as the woman continued, _"Rach and I miss you and Kurt's cooking."_

"And you want to meet my new slave." Brittany predicted, smiling knowingly when she heard Quinn giggle, "That's what I thought – alright, I'll let Kurt know you two are coming over. Anything else you needed to fill me in on? I have shopping to do."

" _Shopping? It's six p.m and you're going shopping? Why?"_ Quinn asked curiously.

"Santana – my new slave – is as tiny as a mouse and she needs clothes that fit." Brittany informed the other blonde as she drummed her fingers on the desk. There was a knock at the door and Brittany cleared her throat loudly, signaling they could come in. It was Kurt.

" _Ah. Well, you girls have fun. I'm looking forward to Friday."_ Quinn said, _"See you then, hon. Bye-bye."_

"Bye, Quinn." Brittany said, hanging up and putting down the phone, "Hi, Kurt. Listen, sweetie, please would you get another change of clothes from the linen cupboard for Santana? She's taking a bath."

"Absolutely, Mistress. Anything else?" Kurt asked politely and Brittany sighed.

"Come sit down for a moment. I'd like to ask you something." She instructed.

"Yes, Mistress." Kurt obeyed, shutting the door to the study and moving to sit down on the seat in front of Brittany's desk, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yes, everything's just fine but, I'd like you to be honest with me," Brittany began, lifting her pen and tapping it against the desk, "How is Santana coping? Did she do alright today or did she struggle?"

"Mistress, she was superb. She worked like a motor." Kurt informed her and she nodded, furrowing her brow in thought.

"Would you please make sure she eats in the day? Even if she forgets; please bring her food. She's so tiny and I really want her to fatten up – her ribs and hip bones are sticking out." She said and Kurt nodded.

"Yes, Mistress, of course." Kurt agreed earning a smile.

"Thank you, Kurt. Very much. I appreciate that." Brittany said and Kurt smiled.

"Will that be all, Mistress?" he asked.

"Yes, that's all. Thank you. Please take those clothes up to Santana and start dinner. Her and I should be back around eight. The three of you should eat without us." Brittany said. Kurt gave his Mistress a nod.

"Thank you, Mistress. I'll do that right away." He said, standing from his seat and moving to the door, pulling it open and leaving the room.

Leaving Brittany to her thoughts.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Thank you so very much for all the reviews! Each and every one of them is greatly appreciated. Keep 'em coming… please. Okay, so, in one of the reviews someone asked if this was going to be a G!P Brittany story. Now, I absolutely hate losing readers but, I'm going to let you vote. If you'd like G!P Brittany then let me know and if you don't, let me know as well. However, if you don't mind if it's G!P or not then please make that known too. I won't post the next chapter until a decision's been made. So, vote, vote, vote for what you'd like to read.** _ **Please**_ **. The future of this story is in your hands. Be careful, mindful and gentle with it. Go forth and review, my good readers and writers.**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Magical Mind of Mistress Brusierce**

 **A/N:**

 **You guys have voted and the majority said they didn't mind whether it was G!P or not so, I've decided to** _ **not**_ **make it a G!P story and continue it the way I've planned it. Thank you all for voting and reviewing, favoriting and following. It's all greatly appreciated.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

The clothes overwhelmed Santana. The store had everything from socks and shoes to dresses and skirts and Santana could hardly breathe at the sight. Brittany had seated herself on a small armchair and thrown one leg over the other as she watched the brunette walk around the store in awe, hesitating to reach out and touch the clothes. Brittany waved over a saleswoman and cleared her throat, catching the brunette's attention.

"Vivienne, here, is gonna help you pick some stuff out." She told the girl who looked at the old woman standing next to her Mistress and nodded with a smile, "You can get four sets of everything." Santana smiled widely in excitement, "Please make sure everything she wants fits her, Viv."

"Of course, Miss Pierce."

"Thank you. Okay, Santana, go crazy." Brittany said and Santana covered her mouth with both hands, "Pick whatever you want."

"Mistress, thank you. Miss Vivienne, may I start at the socks?" The girl asked and Vivienne nodded with a chuckle, moving over to her and leading her to the sock selection. Santana's face beamed at the sight of all the socks. Pink socks, red socks, blue and black socks, striped socks, dotted socks, striped _and_ dotted socks. Her feet were as excited as she was. Vivienne told her she didn't have to try the socks on, she just had to pick four pairs she wanted and put them in the basket. So, Santana picked a pair of deep red socks with pictures of Rudolf on them, a pair of purple socks with black stripes, a pair of black socks with white polka dots and a pair of black socks with pictures of SpongeBob on them. She happily put her four pairs of socks in her basket and bounced on her toes, "May we pick out pants next, Miss Vivienne?"

"Of course, dear. We have lots of pants – jeans, suit pants, sweat pants, pajama pants, yoga pants – all sorts. Which would you like to look at first?" Vivienne asked and Brittany smiled as she watched Santana's eyes widen at the mention of all the different kinds of pants she could choose from.

"Santana, you'll get four sets of pajamas so, you don't need to pick out pajama pants – Vivienne will show you the pajama sets. You won't need suit pants. You can get four pairs of jeans, four pairs of sweat pants and two pairs of yoga pants. They're nice for when you want to exercise." Brittany told the girl who smiled brightly and nodded. Vivienne showed Santana the jeans first and the brunette was over the moon when she learned she had to try them on to find the right size, "We'll get one size bigger for when you put on some weight."

"Of course, Mistress." Santana agreed happily as she walked into the changing room with four pairs of different jeans to try on. She exited the changing room wearing the first pair which hugged her waist tightly and clung to her skinny legs.

"Two sizes bigger in those, Viv, please." Brittany instructed and watched as Santana wandered back into the changing room. She came out again not ten seconds later wearing a different pair which were a perfect fit, "We'll take those. Put them in the basket, Santana." Brittany watched in surprise as Santana stepped out of the jeans right there and folded them neatly before placing them in the basket. She then walked right back into the dressing room to try on the next two. They were both too big and Brittany instructed Vivienne to get both in three sizes smaller.

Once all four pairs of Santana's new jeans were in her basket, she moved on to sweat pants. She picked grey sweat pants, purple sweat pants, red sweat pants and another grey pair of sweat pants. Each pair fit her loosely and Brittany decided they were perfect before Santana put all four pairs in the basket, "We'll get you four pairs of overalls to work in." Brittany announced and Santana frowned, confused at the new word, "Dungarees." Brittany cleared up.

"Oh! I had some of those when I was younger, Mistress. I never took them off." Santana informed the woman who smiled fondly as the girl bounced around in a pair of yoga pants.

After half an hour Santana was done with her pants and asked Vivienne if they could move on to shirts, "You can have four of each kind of shirt, Santana. For all the seasons." Brittany told her as she fished her phone out of her purse and unlocked it, snapping a quick photo of Santana and typing out a text.

 **To:** _Quinn_

 _I've never seen anyone this euphoric in my life._

Santana tried on all the shirts right there in the middle of the store and decided she liked the loose, baggy t-shirts and the snug, tight long sleeved shirts. She'd already picked four of each when they moved on to the jackets. And so they went, making their way slowly around the entire store picking out all the clothes Santana would need and then some.

"May we do the underwear last, Miss Vivienne?" Santana asked curiously, "I like underwear."

"Saving the best for last. Of course." Vivienne replied, leading Santana over to the very large selection of underwear. Brittany raised from her seat and moved over to the two women, watching closely as Santana picked up a bra and asked:

"What's this?"

"We need to have her fitted, Viv." Brittany said, "It's a bra, Santana. To support your breasts." Santana went pink at the word and put the bra down earning a wide smile from her Mistress, "We'll quickly have you fitted and get you seven bras. You'll need one for each day of the week."

Santana's eyes widened and she nodded as Vivienne began fitting her for a bra, "She's a C cup." Vivienne told Brittany, "32 C."

"Okay, Santana, look at the labels on the bras and find seven that you like that say 32 C." Brittany instructed the girl as she pulled her shirt back on with a nod.

"Yes, Mistress." Santana said, "And then may I pick out underwear?"

"Of course. You can get seven pairs of panties as well. You can never have enough underwear." Brittany said as her phone buzzed in her hand.

 **From:** _Quinn_

 _She's very pretty. Super pretty._

 **To:** _Quinn_

 _Don't perv over my slave, Quinn._

Santana piled seven bras into her basket and then began to pick out panties. She lifted a pair of lace underwear and showed them to her Mistress, "These are pretty, Mistress. May I have these?" she asked earning a chuckle and a nod.

"Any seven pairs you want, Santana."

So, the very eager Santana picked five pairs of lace panties and two pairs of cotton panties and all of them together made the colors of the rainbow. By the time she was finished and had two full baskets of clothes, Brittany instructed her to pick out four pairs of shoes before they paid and left.

In the car on their way home, Santana didn't stop thanking Brittany for a second earning soft chuckles from the woman as she rambled on and on about how happy and grateful she was for her many, many clothes. And, pulling into the driveway, Brittany shut off the car and turned to her still rambling slave, shushing her and giving her a small smile.

"It's only my pleasure, Santana. You've worked hard you're entire life, little bird. You deserve clothes." She said and Santana's eyes welled up as she launched forward and wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck, squeezing tightly as a small tear slipped from her dark brown eye and landed on the blonde's blazer covered shoulder. Brittany didn't hesitate to embrace the woman gently, soothingly rubbing her back and stroking her hair, "It's alright, little bird."

Santana had only ever hugged her father in her entire lifetime and she preferred hugging Brittany. Her Mistress. Brittany's her Mistress. At that thought she pulled out of the hug and began apologizing profusely for invading the woman's personal space so abruptly to which she got a soft finger over her lips and two soft lips pressing into her forehead.

"No more apologizing. Let's go inside and eat some dinner before bed, okay?" Brittany said gently and Santana nodded.

"Y-Yes, Mistress."

* * *

Brittany and Santana had two huge helpings of mac 'n cheese before Santana happily carried all of her shopping bags up to her room after bidding her sweet, sweet mistress a goodnight – she had a full belly and was happily exhausted as she flopped into bed after packing all of her clothes in her chest wearing a pair of her Hello Kitty pajamas. She slept peacefully and had beautiful dreams before abruptly waking up in the middle of the night with a desperate thirst. If she was quiet she could sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water so, that's exactly what she did. She slipped into her fluffy ducky slippers and quietly descended the staircase from hers and Mercedes' room, tip-toeing past Brittany's bedroom and down the second staircase. Very quietly Santana shuffled into the kitchen and was stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her Mistress seated at the island eating chocolate ice cream in her pretty pink pajamas with her hair in a messy bun.

Santana had never seen anything quite as beautiful as her Mistress without make-up on in her pajamas. She licked her lips and caught herself staring before making her presence known, "My apologies, Mistress. I don't mean to be awake so late." She said softly, catching Brittany's attention. The blonde looked up from her ice cream, startled, and smiled.

"Santana," She said gently, "Not to worry. Come join me. Have you ever had ice cream before?"

Santana was shocked. She wasn't supposed to be out of bed and, yet, her mistress was inviting her to sit with her and eat ice cream, "Once when I was a little girl." Santana replied, hesitantly moving to the island and taking a seat next to her Mistress. She watched as Brittany scooped some of the chocolaty goodness onto her spoon and squirted some whipped cream onto it, holding it out to Santana who took the spoon into her mouth with wide eyes before she smiled, "It's delicious."

"It is." Brittany agreed with a smile, spooning some into her mouth, "We can share it. This can be our special tub of ice cream." She told the girl who couldn't help her smile at the thought that she was going to share something with her Mistress, "Are your pajamas comfortable?"

"Yes, thank you, Mistress." Santana said, "They're very cozy and warm. Are your pajamas comfortable?"

"Very." Brittany replied with a sweet smile.

"Mistress, may I ask you a question?" Santana asked hesitantly earning a nod, "At the store, Miss Vivienne called you _Miss Pierce_. I thought you were Mistress Brusierce?"

"Ah." Brittany said, pulling open a drawer and taking out a napkin before lifting the lone pen from the island, "Look here." She instructed, scribbling something down on the napkin and showing Santana.

Mistress _**BR**_ ittany S _ **US**_ an P _ **IERCE**_.

"That's very clever, Mistress." Santana said with a somewhat proud smile as she looked at the napkin, "Your name is Brittany Susan Pierce. That's a very beautiful name."

Brittany was taken aback. No one had ever given her a compliment like that one, "Thank you, Santana. I think your name is beautiful as well." She told the girl, reaching out to brush a stray hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear, taking a short second to stroke the girl's face, "I think _you_ are also very beautiful."

Santana took a gulp of nerves and let out a shaky breath, "You're very beautiful as well, Mistress." She muttered and licked her drying lips as her Mistress leaned in and brushed their noses together before capturing her top lip in a kiss.

Brittany hadn't planned it. She hadn't planned to kiss her slave. She hadn't planned it at all. In fact she hadn't seen herself actually doing it no matter how many times she'd thought about it since she bought the woman. And she knew; she knew it wasn't allowed. She knew it was against the rules of slavery. Slave owners were to have no romantic relations with their slaves unless said slaves were _personal_ slaves. Santana was _not_ Brittany's personal slave. And yet, she still kissed the girl knowing it was wrong and knowing it was going against the oath she'd taken at the age of eighteen. She'd kissed the girl after only owning her for two days.

She'd kissed her slave. She'd kissed Santana. And, surprisingly enough, Santana had kissed her back.

Brittany's soft, warm hand remained cupping Santana's heating cheek as Santana's lower lip slid over Brittany's nervously and shakily. Brittany's free hand raised slowly and cupped Santana's other cheek as she tilted her head and gently deepened the kiss. Santana's shaking hands found their way to Brittany's upper arms and tentatively grasped them in a soft grip, "Mistress," Santana whispered into the kiss, catching Brittany's attention and watching as the woman pulled away and removed her hands from the slave's face.

"I… I'm sorry, Santana." Brittany apologized, her cheeks tinging pink as she blinked furiously and stared hard at the island, "I'm so sorry."

"That was my first kiss, Mistress." Santana whispered, very clearly still in shock from the kiss, as she ran her fingertips over her lips.

"Oh, god." Brittany said, covering her face with her hands and sighing as she shook her head, "I didn't mean to take your first kiss, Santana, I'm so, so sorry."

"It was lovely." Santana said innocently, "I like kissing. May we kiss again?"

Brittany was beyond shocked as she looked Santana in the eyes and frowned, "You—You'd like to kiss me again?" She asked, shaking her head in disbelief, "Santana, what I just did is against the rules. You aren't my personal slave, I'm not allowed to kiss you."

"What is a personal slave?" Santana asked, truly interested.

"A personal slave is a slave that attends to their master or mistress' needs. Romantic needs." Brittany explained, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear, "A personal slave kisses his or her master or mistress and they also do… _other things_ with their master or mistress."

"What other things, Mistress?"

"Sex."

"Oh." Santana blinked, "I've never had sex before. Is it as lovely as kissing, Mistress?"

Brittany smiled at the pure innocence before her and pressed a kiss to Santana's cheek, "Yes, Santana. Sex is just as lovely as kissing but, in a different way." She told the girl as she tilted her head to the side, "But only if it's with the right person. Someone who is gentle and loving and kind."

"You are all those things, Mistress." Santana said earning the softest of smiles from her Mistress, "May I be your personal slave?"

"Santana—"

"In my contract it said that I am allowed to have a say in what I do in the household." Santana interrupted bravely, "I would like to be Mistress' personal slave so that I may kiss her. I would also like to continue working in the yard because I enjoy it."

"Santana, you've already signed. We'd have to get a whole new contract written up and that could take a while."

"How long, Mistress?"

"A couple days. Maybe a week." Brittany replied, looking at Santana as she inhaled a confident breath and exhaled her words.

"I would like to be your personal slave, Mistress." She said, "I will sign a new contract that says I am your personal slave that may also work in the yard."

Brittany sighed and smiled gently, "You're sure?" she asked, watching as Santana's head bobbed in a confident, assuring nod, "Alright. I'll have your new contract written up then. Now, off to bed. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."

"Thank you, Mistress." Santana smiled widely, courageously leaning in and pressing a firm kiss to Brittany's surprised lips before she hopped off her chair and skipped to the kitchen door, "Goodnight, Mistress. Sleep well."

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was quiet. Santana had a large, happy smile on her face throughout the entire meal while Brittany focused on her knife and fork. Brittany was forcing herself to pretend as though there was no kiss the night before however, Santana was very happily eating her food all the while anxiously waiting to tell her new friends about her very first kiss. Santana had seen people kissing before but she'd never thought she'd kiss anyone. As a slave you aren't allowed to experience the things that most people experience everyday – you work as a slave; you do as you're told. But Santana had been kissed by her Mistress. Spontaneously. Wonderfully. Santana had never experienced anything like kissing before and she'd do anything to be kissed again.

"Don't forget your coat, Mistress." Santana said as she pulled Brittany's coat off the coat rack and handed it to her, "I know you don't usually wear it but it's cold today."

"Thank you, Santana." Brittany said gently, slipping on her coat and lifting her large purse from the floor, "Um… listen, until you've signed your new contract you can't tell anyone about what happened last night, alright? I could get into serious trouble and so could you. So, until you've signed on the dotted line, just keep it quiet, okay?"

Santana frowned and then nodded, "Yes, of course, Mistress." She said, "May I tell my friends?"

"No, Santana, you can't tell _anyone_. No one. Please. Okay?"

"Yes, Mistress. Okay." Santana said, slightly disappointed however, very willing to obey her Mistress, "Have a good day."

"You too, Santana." Brittany said with a soft smile, "I'll see you tonight at dinner."

And, just like that, Brittany was walking down the paved path toward her car, climbing into it and driving away. And Santana watched. She stood at the door and watched her Mistress leave the house all the while thinking what it'd be like to kiss her again.


End file.
